


Slouching Towards Bethlehem

by claudiapriscus



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Unbeta'd, random henchdemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudiapriscus/pseuds/claudiapriscus
Summary: Maybe there was a reason hell kept so quiet during most of the king's absence. Gossip flies fast in hell, but recently...recently it has been something else. There are whispers, you know, whispers that wind their way into every ear and tell of a terror beyond even hell's imagining. What if it notices them? Best to keep quiet. Best to keep their heads down.Warning: this is complete and total midnight crack fic, and honestly I have no excuse.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	Slouching Towards Bethlehem

It starts out as whispers. There’s always whispers in hell. It’s hard to talk over the screaming, but a whisper – yeah. They travel. 

Belphaestos wasn’t a gossip hound like some, the ones who constantly were ditching their jobs the instant they got some tasty tidbit from some newly dead mortal. The King, his right hand, the great enemy above… it’s not like mortals would know anything _important_ , and 9 times out of 10 it was probably wrong anyway. And in any case, Belphaestos would never abandon her post. She had some fucking professional standards, unlike _some._

But Hell ran on gossip, so every new rumor made its way to her eventually anyway. 

She was in the middle of tormenting some damned soul (administering a test, threatening to fail them if they didn’t pass it, _FFS_ , mortal standards of eternal punishment had been slipping of late, give her some good old fashion hellfire and brimstone, but she was a traditionalist) when Carpsyp popped in, looking more twitchy than normal. 

The damned soul looked at Carpsyp like salvation, and then attempted to use Belphaestos’ apparent distraction as an opportunity to copy the answers from their neighbor. She let them get on with it. Cheating just lead to a scenario where she’d pull in her co-lead on this section and they’d subject the soul to a parental “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed” speech. She had to give Euyeren credit for that, they always managed to reinvent the new into approaching the levels of agony of the old.

Since Carpsyp wasn’t saying anything, just being useless like always, Belphaestos set the scenario on autopilot and stepped away from the guise of the test administrator. The soul, too absorbed in their own guilt wouldn’t notice. Not for a bit, anyway. 

Belphaestos folded her arms. “Yes?” 

Carpsyp licked his lips. “Have you heard the latest? It’s-” his eyes darted around. “Well, is it true? Have you heard anything?”

“I will literally cut off your arm and feed it to you, Carpsyp. I’ve heard a lot of things. What exactly do you want?” 

Carpsyp grinned, because she’d just handed him his favorite thing – getting to break the gossip in to a new person. _Ugh_. Rookie move on her part. She looked him over. _Maybe she should cut off his arm, anyway? No, he’d just stick around whining while it regrew._

Still, despite perking up over getting to break the news to her, he was awfully twitchy. Whatever it was, it was probably a bit more juicy than hearing about Lord Lucifer’s exploits in driving mortals mad or tempting their young into sin. 

“Well,” he said, then paused, drawing it out. She rolled her eyes. “My soul’s getting restless,” she said pointedly, hoping to hurry him up. “I’m not sacrificing my CSATs* for whatever nonsense is going around.” 

“So I heard from Rakryerl who heard it from Eaerphyne who heard it from-”

“Yes, fine, what?”

Carpsyp took a breath. “There’s something up there. Something...bad.”

“We’re hell, you idiot.”

“No, it’s worse. Some new torture, or weapon, or beast. They say – they say it caused Mazikeen to- cry.” 

“No way, Carpsyp. That’s stupid. Some soul took you for a ride.”

“No, it’s legit, I heard it myself from - “

She sighed and waved her hand, “yes, I remember.” 

“The thing is -” he said, “the thing is it’s not the only one.”

“What? No. That’s gotta be bullshit. No one could break Mazikeen. It’s impossible. She’s the right hand. Have you even met her?”

Carpsyp shuffled uneasily, “I tried to avoid it.” 

“Yeah I bet,” Belphaestos said. _Shirker_. Of course he wouldn’t want to catch the eye of the head torturer. She’d probably send him back to remedial lessons.**

“Well,” she continued, “I _have_. And maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be so quick to believe dumbass rumors.” 

And that was the end of that. (She may have cut off his arm a little bit before chasing him out of her workstation.) 

At least for a while.

See, the disturbing thing was that these rumors _kept happening_. There’s something up there, and it can break anyone. It’s not long before there are stories about Lucifer – yeah, _seriously_ \- crying over a _priest (!!)_ after mere **_hours_** of exposure. (Rumor has it that Mazikeen, the bloody bitch herself! only lasted ten minutes.) 

And that’s not even the worst of it. Like, some credulous demons even believed that he was passing up punishment in order to _save_ lives or some bullshit, though not even the most credulous believed the one about him doing it to not upset some “ _Detective”_ or whatever the fuck that was supposed to be _(no seriously, what the fuck???)_ The only credible thing she’d heard so far was that the whatever it was could spit fire 40 feet in any direction and could disembowel a man from fifty paces. Good, normal stuff, that. None of this crazy nonsense. 

  
The rumors were really getting out of control. The only mitigating thing as far as Belphaestos saw it was thinking about how glorious the king’s anger would be once he overcame the loathsome thing. And oh, even better, there would certainly be heads rolling in hell, glorious rivers of blood once he heard about the rumors. Oh yes. She could hardly wait. 

But right now – it was getting….worrisome. The latest report indicated that even the assface known as the Angel Amenadiel had succumbed. Which might have been a spot of good news, except it just inflamed the unease that was growing. Because if this newest thing wasn’t some new invention of Hell, and it wasn’t a new weapon of Heaven...what was it? 

And what terrible hold did it have, that it could compel the king of hell and celestial warriors to return again and again into its terrible fold?

There’d been a name, recently. She didn’t know if it came from a soul or divination or just dreamed up from the terror of the denizens of Hell. The name wound its way through the hells, whispers behind the whispers, too terrible to say too loud, lest it be summoned. 

Belphaestos didn’t like to admit it, but there was something setting into her bones, and she didn’t like it. It sizzled and it burned and it sank like lead. She knew it. She’d dished it out often enough. _Dread._

What if it was true? What if the thing came _here_? Could they even trust the gates to hold? 

The name bubbled up in her mind, before she could stop it. She shuddered. What in all the worlds could hold against it? 

No, this was ridiculous. She wasn’t some spawn to believe it. No. 

She rubbed her arms against the chill that managed to cut through the balmy heat of hell and whispered to herself, “I don’t believe it. I don’t.” and quietly: “there’s no such thing as Linda.” 

* of course CSATs exist in Hell. Where do you think they came from?

** being taught the fine arts of torture was very hands-on. Not so much learn by doing as learn by having it done to you.


End file.
